


And so we ran

by TalkingIsJustAWasteOfBreath



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Medieval AU, errr, i love kyouhaba a lot okay, this is fluffy but also kind of angsty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-07 23:24:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7733869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TalkingIsJustAWasteOfBreath/pseuds/TalkingIsJustAWasteOfBreath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Its weeks after the palace burns, after they have to run, after they decided to head towards the myth that is Karasuno, and Kyoutani reflects on the path that lies before them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	And so we ran

**Author's Note:**

> this was supposed to be longer and more epic but i got lazy and distracted by nge, so this is sort of a wip? and a possible teaser for a future fic? i'm not exactly sure what i want to do with this universe yet, but enjoy!

Kyoutani never, ever meant for it to end up like this.

Yahaba stirs a bit next to him and mumbles something, the tips of his stupid haircut tickling Kyoutanis neck as he tries to bury himself a bit more under the covers

They’ve been on the run with Oikawa and Iwazumi for about two weeks now, maybe longer. Kyoutani hasn’t been keeping track (that was Iwazumi’s job) and all of the mountain landscapes shrouded in mist were staring to blend together. Though beautiful, it felt like everywhere they went was from the same ink painting, the kind that made people stop and sigh for a second before promptly forgetting about it a few minutes later.

_“Karasuno,” Oikawa had said bitterly to them around the campfire the night they had fled, eyes sharp._

_“If we can reach Karasuno, we might have a chance. They have an alliance with the Nekoma empire and I have a connection there that could protect us until we can gather the forces to take back Seijoh.”_

Kyoutani is still trying to forget the night when it all came crashing down. There was fire (Yahaba still had the burn scars to prove it, all across his back and parts of his neck, marring the once smooth skin) and lots of blood (Kyoutani still doesn’t know if Watari made it out alive). He is still trying to forget the panic in Iwazumi’s eyes and the manic in Oikawa’s. (Kyoutani is also still trying to forget the sound of Yahaba’s screams and that moment when his vison seemed to turn red from pain and from trying to break free from the hands that held him, but they’ve been burned so deeply into his conscious, he doubts he will ever be free of them.)

Something stirs outside the tent, clinking up against the silverware and tin cooking utensils that had been left near the fire pit last night. It’s probably Oikawa, the early riser that he is. Iwazumi and Yahaba both sleep like the dead until about 10’oclock each morning, and Kyoutani usually wakes up about an hour before they both do, but Oikawa is up before the sun rises every damn day. Kyoutani doesn’t know what he does in all those hours before the rest of them are even conscious, but he figures for the former heir to one of the most powerful countries in the region, he must find some way to fill the time.

Kyouantis thoughts are interrupted when Yahaba stirs again and sleepily pulls Kyoutani closer to him, burying his face into the crook of Kyoutain’s neck. Kyoutani fights the urge to blush and huffs intstead settling his chin on the top of Yahaba’s head.

“Good morning.” Yahaba mumbles somewhere near his jugular.

“Fuck you.” Kyoutani replies.

“How much farther do you think we have to go?”

Kyoutani considers this for a second, trying to remember what Oikawa had said last night when Iwazumi had asked him the same thing.

“I don’t fucking know. Something like only a mountain range or two more, but we still have those shitheads from the palace on our tail. Iwazumi might try to double back to lose them but with winter on its way…”

Both of them fall silent, listening as a now awake Iwazumi and Oikawa talk quietly over the fire. The last dregs of fall were just starting to fizzle out as the nights grew colder and colder and the snow on the mountain peaks started to bleed down closer and closer to the valley floor. Winter here was harsh, with storms that froze everything living in its path and piled up snow so deep you could barely see over the top of the snow piles that seemed to form overnight.

Kyoutain tries not to think about what would happen if they don’t reach Karasuno before the first storm hits. Instead, he traces the burn scars across Yahabas back and closes his eyes to the midmorning sun filtering through the fabric of their tent, hoping to catch a few more minutes of rest before the sun is too intense to bear and they have to gather their things and leave.

Kyoutani never meant for it to end up like this (he was just supposed to be Iwazumi’s second in command with a grudge against the pretty manservant in service to Oikawa), but here he was ,100 miles away from home with said pretty manservant in his arms, and a new scar on his heart he was afraid would burst open at any minute.


End file.
